He tied the ribbons of his pointe shoes easily, the familiar feeling of the material snaking up his ankles reminding him that this is where he belonged. The baby pink satin shone against the bright lights in the studio as he flexed his feet and began stretching. His toes clicked slightly, reminding him that he shouldn't wait so long between sessions.

He'd been dancing since he was 3 years old and, despite peer pressure and bullying throughout his whole teenage life, he had never given up. He just felt right when he had his shoes on and could move his body in ways that most people couldn't dream of. It was stress relief, it was a hobby, it was his whole life.

He rose, gracefully; the beautiful pointe shoes somehow changing him from a clumsy puppy to a poised eagle. By the barre he practiced a few of his basic moves, his Pliés and Elevés. It just returned him back to the ballet mindset where every move had a purpose and he could carry it out with precision.

He hopped up en pointe and stretched his arm down in a sweeping motion as the music flowed through his lean and muscular body. Whoever labelled ballet a wussy's activity was 100% wrong. Did they not know how much strength and flexibility goes into every move and besides, who else can take their whole body weight on a single toe?

He sighed to himself. Despite everything he still hadn't been able to buck up the courage to tell his boyfriend about his favorite hobby. Dean was kind of super masculine and shied away from anything that would damage his male reputation. Finding out that Sam did ballet at a top level several times a week was not going to go down well... or so he assumed. He'd never even mentioned ballet around the other man in the fear something would slip out.

"Focus." He whispered to himself, it echoed around the studio.

He tried to shake his mind off the topic but recently his thoughts during training had revolved around Dean Winchester. He'd have to tell the man eventually as he'd been considering auditioning for the New York Ballet Company or maybe even going across seas for Paris Opera Ballet or the Royal Ballet in England. He'd inevitably have to inform Dean if it got that far. His current instructor was one of the best in the US and she believed he had a chance at getting accepted. Even the thought if it thrilled him.

He focused on his footing as he crossed the room, moving like the wind. He dipped down, feeling the slight pull on his thigh muscles. Sam stretched up high in time with the music. This had always been his favorite piece to warm up to even when his skill level exceeded what it could provide.

He ran and leapt. Legs stretched far apart, breeze ruffling his hair, muscles poised and tight. He landed with the softest of thumps for years of practice. He couldn't stop the grin that was forming across his lips. Maybe if he pushed himself to his limit then his mind would leave Dean behind and instead get entangled with the performance and perfection of the art.

He breathed heavily as he did pirouette after pirouette, spotting to keep his head always in the same direction. His body was liquid, moving to the vibration of music. He had no mental control; it was all physical.

The studio door clicked behind him but the noise was largely masked by the loud classical music drifting from the huge speakers. Then he saw Sam. His boyfriend was in a leotard, tights and pink ballet shoes. This had to be a joke...

Dean had followed behind his boyfriend for a while when he noticed Sam had left his keys on the table. He hung back however when the taller male slipped into some random dance school that Dean had never noticed before. He waited a while for Sam to come out and continue heading towards the gym but he didn't. Why was Sam there? Was he cheating on Dean with a dancer? It seemed unlikely but he'd leant never to rule out the impossible.

He entered the school a few minutes later and headed along the corridors, checking in each window for Sam, eventually finding him. His partner was so entranced in the music that Dean stood there for a few minutes merely watching until Sam jumped, hand over his heart.

"Dean! Christ, you scared me!" He chuckled slightly as the tension released from his muscles.

"What is this?" Dean demanded, ignoring Sam's comment to instead gesture at his pink shoes and tight leotard.

"... Ballet." The taller man offered uncertainly.

"I can see that." He rubbed a hand over his face, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

Sam carded his fingers through his hair anxiously, "I didn't want you to get embarrassed and leave." Honesty.

"Embarrassed? Sam, why would I get embarrassed?" His green eyes met Sam's hazel.

There was a beat of silence between them but the classical music surrounding the two men was reaching its very climax. Sam needed time to organize his thoughts in a way that wouldn't offend his boyfriend.

"Ballet, it's... not seen as the most masculine thing to do and I know you are conscious of how people look at us anyway for being together." Tears began to slip down his cheeks, "I wanted to tell you but I didn't want to have to choose between you or it."

Dean looked heartbroken that he'd put Sam though such turmoil, "Sam, I love you and I can tell this means so much to you. I could never make you choose! Yes, I'm aware of what people say about us but why would sacrificing this and making you miserable make that any better? I'd prefer you happy and with me than anything else. And besides, you're absolutely incredible!"

Sam blushed at the compliment but fell into his partner's arms when he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"I love you, Sammy." Dean whispered against his hair.

"I love you too, Dean."

The elder separated them slightly so he could peer into the hopeful face, "Now, why don't you show me what you can do. The amount you sneak off to practice must mean you're good!"

Sam grinned and stepped back.

Moments later, Dean is leaning against the barre as he watches Sam leap and twirl around the room with utmost skill and dexterity. His talent and dedication bleeding through in each move, highlighting the time Sam had invested into his art. Dean was happy. He could make out the smile plastered across his partner's lips too and knew that this reveal was just the start of something amazing for them.